For six days straight, save for no more than five hours rest during the nights, Stefan volunteered on behalf of the Black Shield to assist the incoming travelers coming to support Marius with rebuilding the town. His Initiation had given him increased stamina and strength to carry heavy loads throughout the town for long periods of time. Carrying 15-foot-long wooden poles were of no problem to him, neither was lifting his own body weight in bricks over his back. So long as he kept his body busy, he wouldn’t have to think about what had afflicted his mind. Because the day of the pogrom gave him too much to think about.

He had finished putting up framing for a house roof when his stomach began grumbling.

“Go get something to eat from the tavern, my boy,” the Anbieter, who had been supervising reminded him. “That body won’t nourish itself.”

“I can go on a little longer.” Stefan said.

“You haven’t even taken a break except to sleep last night,” the Anbieter said with concern in his voice. “My duty is to keep you safe, and part of that is to make sure you’re healthy. I’ve already told the owner that everything the Black Shield purchases will be on me, so don’t worry about having to pay. Just wear your mask when you head inside.”

“Aren’t you… mad at me?” Stefan asked.

“Why? Because you ran off from Company C? I am disappointed, yes, but that’s the least important thing right now. Go eat.”

“…Fine.” Stefan sighed, dropping a hammer and a box of nails that he’d gone down from the roof.

Entering the dining establishment, he could see that part of the building had been repurposed, for a short-term basis at least. The main section with tables had been cordoned off with curtains, leaving only the bar counter and a few tables in front of it available for patrons to use. Most of them were workers from outside Marius taking breaks in between different jobs. Other guests ordered food to take away, given the lack of seating inside. Stefan walked up to the bar counter, only to see that all the seats were occupied.

“You’re a Black Shield lad, aren’t ya?” a patron asked, noticing the mask that made him stick out like a sore thumb. “Ah, don’t look at me like that! Here, it’s all yours!”

The diner grabbed his plate, still half-full and stood, offering his seat to Stefan.

“N-No, sir, you don’t—

“You look like you need a seat,” the guest said more sternly, after gazing into his eyes for no more than a moment. “Please, take it lad.”

“I… thank you.” Stefan said, but the kind gentlemen had already left with the remainder of his meal by then. He took his seat, and a server greeted him less than a minute later.

“Just a veal pottage and a mug of water, please.” Stefan told the server promptly. The server acknowledged his order with a curt nod, then left through the swinging wooden doors behind her to the kitchen. Two minutes later, his freshly made, hot meal was placed before him. He took his mask off in preparation to eat.

“Thanks.” Stefan said.

He stirred around the steaming broth with his spoon for a few moments. Putting some of it to his lips, he recovered a semblance of the warmth his body, and truly, his soul had been missing for the past several days.

The hearty stew reminded him of a taste he hadn’t indulged in for months. The heat of the gas stove made him sweaty but balmy as it warmed the dining and drawing room. A teenage boy boomed, upset that his sibling had taken too much of the roast rabbit their mother had prepared.

“Joakim, don’t you remember?” their mother reminded. “Stef’s body is different from yours. He’s growing very fast, and he needs to eat more. Don’t be upset at him.”

Joakim frowned and dropped his head. A hand took away his finished bowl and replaced it with a half-full one. His brother smirked, but quietly continued with his meal.

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“Eat that,” Kallista said. “You’re still hungry, aren’t you?”

“Mum—I can’t. That’s yours!” Joakim protested.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said with a kind tone. “I’m not much of a heavy eater, you know. And I’ll make plenty more for ourselves and all our neighbors once this snowstorm ends.”

“Let’s hope Uncle Ruben doesn’t steal it,” Stefan snickered. “Just like he does whenever you make stew. Although can you really blame him?”

“That’s Mr. Holt to you,” Kallista spoke with noticeable irritability. “He is not your uncle. I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”

“R-Right… sorry, Mum.”

“Finish your food,” Kallista said. “This isn’t the time for speaking.”

Stefan returned to stirring his pottage with his spoon. He sat straight in order to correct his slouched posture, but instead seeing his brother’s face with disdain all over it, he saw pots, pans and spoons hanging from a wall in front of him. The gossiping voices of many around him reminded him of where was again.

None of that was real.

He looked back at his pottage, half finished. He pushed it aside and got back to his feet. His break was over, and he was ready to return to rebuilding the house he had been helping with. He looked to the curtains which divided the tavern, cutting off about-thirds of it from the rest. He was overcome with curiosity and decided to take a look at what it was being used for.

It only took a second, peeking in between the curtains to see what was going on. About a dozen beds were lined up against a wall, each supporting a person whose bodies were shrouded in bandages and blankets.

A makeshift field hospital.

Some of them groaned in discomfort, while others were so incapacitated that they could not even wiggle a finger.

“Hey, doctor…” an older man croaked as a woman Stefan recognized as being from out of town walked by him. She stopped to listen to him. “Have you seen… my brother?”

“Your brother?” the doctor asked. “No, Mr. Kroon. I’ve already told you several times that we tried all we could, and despite that, we were unable to save him. I am very sorry. I know it’s extremely hard, but please understand.”

“Before I passed out… he said we’d both make it. We’d make it for our wives and children that couldn’t make it out of there… did he lie to me?”

This isn’t the same man I spoke to after I rescued them… this is the other brother, the one who was already unconscious when I got into their house.

“I have to go say something to him,” Stefan affirmed to himself. “I have to tell him that I couldn’t keep the promise I made to his brother.”

Before Stefan could even so much as put two feet past the curtain, a hand stopped him.

“I know you’re a part of the Black Shield,” the attendant who blocked him said. “But this area is only accessible to medics. I can’t allow you to be here, I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” Stefan said, putting on a smile. “No worries. I was just lost, thanks for letting me know.”

His pace fueled by his anxiety increased from a fast walk into a brisk spurt, prohibiting anyone from the Black Shield from seeing him. He ran to the only place he knew that would allow him to be alone—the Bernard family garden. He hopped over the wall and found a quiet corner to sit in. Inside the house was a stark contrast, with the Bernard men mourning the loss of a woman they both loved while having to see to the needs of the injured people of Marius at the same time.

Stefan put his head in his hands. He found it harder to breathe as his heartbeat raced. His arms and shoulders shook as he found it harder to keep his concentration in check.

“I couldn’t save him,” he said. “I couldn’t save him, I couldn’t save him, I couldn’t save him…”

As frantic and guilty as he appeared, he fought the feelings back as hard as he could, trying to retrieve any recollection that would put his mind at ease.

Sounds, sights, smells, objects, places, belongings, people, friends, family…. Mum.

“This is what she was trying to protect me from…” Stefan concluded. “The Light Pillars, the Angels, her experiences fighting against them… she saw all those things… she tried to hide me from them…”

“Stefan…”

“I’m sorry Mum… you didn’t want this to happen…”

“Stefan…”

“Why couldn’t I just look for Leon at the clinic…?”

“Stefan, can you hear me?” a male voice said for the third time. The youth looked above him to see Meinrad’s face hovering, a couple day’s worth of brown stubble lining his jaw as he hung over the wall of the Bernard family garden.

“Oh…” Stefan said, glad to see a familiar face for the first time in days. “It’s you.”

“Yep,” Meinrad said with a gentle smile. Meinrad was quite possibly the only person who could’ve smiled in the aftermath of such a horrific event, but Stefan knew it wasn’t because he was happy. He simply was trying to convey a semblance of calmness and normality. “I… don’t want to bother you, but the Anbieter ordered me to pass something on if I ran into you.”

“W-What would that be?” he asked.

“Hold on a second.” Meinrad said, before dropping back behind the wall. Stefan could hear the heaves of someone else trying to climb the wall. Someone who wasn’t Meinrad.

“Anwen?” Stefan asked as the girl landed on soft dirt behind him. “A-Anwen, you’re back…”

Stefan reached a shaking hand out towards her, trying to confirm if he was not seeing things, but he withdrew it since she would confirm her presence herself.

“Hi, Stefan.”